Despite the Darkness #10

Last time, several weeks ago, Steve and Stu had a little man chat, but then something attacked and another person fell to the unknown terror stalking our helpless cast of characters. 


Rifles, handguns, and shotguns all fired into the darkness, falling ineffectually in the snow to the right or burrowing into the side of the A-frame. The men inside called out, but their cries were drowned out by the reports of the firearms, so the firing continued indiscriminately. Jan pulled Isaiah away from the group, putting them between her son and perceived threat.

“Stop shooting you idiots,” Stu yelled as he ran off to stop them. He followed a step later. The shooting was dying off, but then something brushed against the chainlinks of the baseball backstop, so the firing swiveled that direction and renewed in intensity and then another sound - this time at the corner of the building where Mitchel’s body lay. The guns swung straight at the two men.

“DON’T SHOO...”

He tackled Stu to the ground and held him down; there was a snap that was almost imperceptible as two rifles fired only factions of a second later. The hot lead ripped over their heads, the sound like two angry wasps – reminding him of the time he’d upset a wasps nest at his grandfather’s place. He’d ran to the pond and jumped in, but even underwater he could hear the irate wasps moving back and forth just above the water.

“I am going to kill the next man who fires his weapon with my… own… bare… hands,” Stu started to force himself up, but he fell back down into the snow with a sharp yelp. “My arm! You broke my arm!”

Stu rolled over and cradled his wrist close to his chest. Before the others could react, Jan ran up and started to assess the injury.

“I’m a nurse. Let me see your hand.” Jan’s voice was firm and commanding. Stu gingerly gave her his hand. The slightest motion caused him to cry out, even placing back it on his chest caused Stu to growl out a curse. “We’ll need to splint it and get you to a doctor.”

“Ain’t no doctor for miles,” Stu said through gritted teeth.

“What do we do, Stu?”

“We stop shooting at every little thing, is what we start…” Something heavy stepped on part of The Dambuster’s tin roof. Everyone turned and their weapons discharged. A dark shape jumped from the edge and crashed down atop one of the men – he screamed as yellow teeth bit into his shoulder. It was all happening so fast the men took no time to think, they just shot… wildly.

Some rounds hit the thing, which looked like a tangle of gray fur with powerful arms and legs. It yelped and let go of the man, back up and then lunged at another but was arrested when a 12-guage slug struck it in the shoulder. The scream was piercing and feminine. This new surprise shocked the men again, so the firing stopped. This gave the thing the opportunity to run, turning towards The Dambuster it started to limply run forward. Stu reached out for the shotgun lying beside him and with a single hand he raised the weapon, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening but the scream still over powered it. The heavy slug struck the thing square in the chest, dropping it instantly in the snow. The scream continued, only changing in tone and pitch as new voices began their own. First it had been the thing, then it was someone else, and then it was Jan.

He was up and moving first, the scream was throwing his balance off and his steps were unsteady. He was shaking and his head throbbed. He stepped over the still body of the thing and fell to his knees beside Isaiah.

“I love you dad.” That thought, those words, spoken a millions times before echoed in his mind. Isaiah lay in the snow; his right arm was spread across the snow, splayed open and held together by a few fleshy strands of flesh and muscle. His red blood pooled under him and his skin was already turning pale.

“No. Oh, God, no! Oh, God! Oh, God!” It was equally prayer and curse. I love you dad.


That was tough to write. I'm just going to let it hang there.